STREET SINGERS OF ENGLAND.

Marlborough Express, Volume XXVII, Issue 2, 3 January 1891, Page 4

STREET SINGERS OF ENGLAND.

Mr. WilMe Collins discovered that outsida the ken of the popular novelist there is an " Unknown Public " whose literature is not classified at the circulating libraries and not generally known. If he had extended his researches, he would have found that the songs o£ that public are likewise such, that ordinary people are not acquainted with them. Of some, it is true, we hear snatches when passing through the streets. " I'm a man that's done wrong to me parents," and " Nobody'U help me now I'm broke down " (both sung m a most lugubrious minor key) are lines that sound familiar. Upon such themes as these the " busker " — or, m other words, the tramp •who, when other means of livelihood fail, industriously "works" the streets — rings the changes year after year. Men of that class, however, are not to be confounded [with the regular professional singers; nor are their songs the same as those which hold an enraptured audience m some quiet little nook not far off a main road i- The professional street vocalist often changes his repertoire. No sooner is a great fire, a remarkable accident, or an atrocious crime committed than out comes the unlettered ministrel with his copy of verses, and before many days thousands of people have them off by heart. Who writes these street songs, and where do the graceful illustrations with which they are embellished come from ? As to their composition, perhaps a few notes are made by the singer or some "literary" friend, and the scansion punctuation left to the printer. The men who sing these topical ditties roam about from place to place, and as they pander to popular excitement, their earnings must sometimes be by no means inconsiderable. At Liverpool recently — to take a striking case m pomt — some verses on a public event were m great demand, one man selling all his stock at sixpence per copy. / Another class of street singers select a stand and stick to it. Such men keep to sacred songs and the like, into which they pat what Sidney Smith called " forty-parson-power pathos," and regularly earn more money than falls to the lot of most working men. " It was stated before a board of guardians that one of these men was m the habit of making from £3 to £5 a week. When hi 3 earnings did not reach £2 10s., it was a " bad week," and a " bad day " when he did not take 7s. after two or three o'clook m the afternoon. He had collected, it was said, as xaueh cs £2 on a Saturday. j -As tending to confirm this, a case is fenown to the writer, of a blind street vocalist owning a row of twenty cottages— all from •« voluntary contributions I" • . _■ PUBLIC-HOUSE "VOCALISTS. „ Ths vocalists who sing at public-houses, and who are to be found m such great force throughout the north of England, are . of a higher class than the street singers, but, at the same time, they all belong to the unknown multitude. Somo of them are connected with agencies, and receive little more for' their services than board and lodgings. The castsoff of the lower class music halls, they work bard for a bare livelihood. Others make their own terms, and earn from 20s. to 40s. a wesk, with an occasional dinner from the landlord and a practically unlimited allowance of drinks and cigars from their admirers when the state of tho exchequer permits. Host of them, like some of Thackeray's seedy characters, have " seen better days ;" and if you get on chatting terms with them, it will be strange indeed if you are not shown a scrap book filled with newspaper cuttings of the kind that Miss»»Snevellicci artlessly put m the way of Nicholas Nickleby. These extracts from the worst authors are always to one effect; indeed, they all bear such a strong family likeness — the same word, the same form of sentence — that they might liave been manufactured by a machine. •After all, however, there is sometimes truth m what they tell you about their having fallen on evil days. Many a racehorse spsnds his last few years between the shafts of a cab, and many an opera tenor closes Ms musical career as a bar-parlour vocalist. Yet what, with very poor philosophy, has been said of other broken-down men, may be said of bar-parlour vocalists, that they might do a great deal worse. -i However they regard their lot, landlords must certainly find that such singers bring m a great deal of custom, since m not a few hostelries as much as £20 or £25 a week are paid during the greater part of the year for professional services of the kind they render. In this sum is included the amount earned by a pianist, who acts as accompanist during ilia week, and perhaps gives selections of sacred music on Sunday. POPULAR EOXGS There are several publications issued containing songs that may be sung by anybody, so that they may bacome popular, and thus give the writers a lift up the ladder of fame ; . but only one, we believe, entirely devoted to the interests of authors, composers, and artistes of the type under consideration. From this we gather that there are people m the world — and several of them are " authors of hundreds of popular songs" — who are ■willing to write verses for any occasion. Those m search of literary wares of this class are requested to " state particulars of subject ■wanted, enclosing half a crown m stamps, to," etc. When it is considered that he who was a giant among entertainers — Henry • Russell — could only get one guinea for " The Ship on Tire," two pounds for " There's a Good Time Coming, Boys," and ten shillings each for " Man the Lifeboat " and " The Ivy Grean," it is perhaps not surprising that verses for any occasion are valued at only talf-a-crown (m postage stamps). But times have changed since Bussell's day. An age of Eiillings has given place to one of pounds, and a successful song writer nowadays can •command £25 for a small poem of only three verses. How is it, then, that the " popular " song writer for the unknown — what the terms of the unpopular may be we cannot imagine — can only command 2s. 6d. for verses specially for the occasion ? A glance at his wares will remove all doubts on this point. Here^is a specimen of humour : — "For she is funny and tall, Like the whitewash on the wall ; She's got an eye like a rabbit pie. On her face she wears a fall ; Her teeth are black and blue With eating honey dew." It will be seen that it requires a highlyfrained taste to appreciate the modern comic song as it is written by the hack writer. Of trne humour he has no idea. " Hot Codlins," and other songs which delighted the world half a century ago, do not strike us very favourably now, but we prefer them to the modem "comic." Song writing of this character, however, is sometimes very profitable. At a sale a short time ago. tho copyright of certain rubbishy npt oi the first or ee^nd class of its kind, brought enormous prices, a single song being sold for no less than 113 guineas., Unlcno'.ra vocalists cto not altogether rely npon songs written specially for them. Some, indeed — such as the better class of the barparlour ordsr — keep to old favourites year after 3~oar, "while, for an occasional change, thoj fall back upon the popular drawing-room sgh.s o! the tlav. A certain vocalist of thi^ o:\lci- is vroni to boast that he has sung "^ ne TTcu :i of tencr than auv other two r^gn j n Piimltiva man, according to S&, Andrew Lan-, m a strain thai would scan." Ti:a uz!;u3 «a improvisator*, is. not quite so giits.l «i 3 a!l that, butk& can. turn out soms; very fair jingling lir^as,. and sometimes pSs^ ; tlieiii too, vamping his. ovra. accornpavftrßfln.lt' as bo /pas along.. Give him, & subi&of together v.itli a trifling fee, and.Jn-.aj*iflsJsr '! ho pr-irs forth liis unpremeditated- lay % ' J 1 surely, it; the most remarkafi'isL an£ tpT t, ma •'V.oll, no;- Etcs4 -c? mind that. 'lf sfc.' exactly. But I didn't I f-'av'" ~h"\- I<r <i only return that diamond i£vx^*\hr juld forgive all. But when si^e , {], at _ ring with the diamont taken out '" i ' 3 t OO j^ueh — too much 1"